Flu Season
by ReidsFanGirl18
Summary: For the last month a flu virus has stalked the BAU, taking each of its members down and out of commission one by one. The only one who hasn't caught it yet is Reid, but that can't last. With every field agent down for the count, what will happen when a massive Blizzard turns DC into a frozen city of ice and only Garcia is back in action? Reviews Appreciated!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Last Man Standing

The seven agents of the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit were used to fighting and stopping all manner of serial killers, rapists, pedophiles, stalkers and the like… they had even stopped the Replicator, a serial killer who spent almost a year stalking everyone on the team and mocking them by imitating the MOs of killers they had stopped all over the country. But lately it had become clear that something else was stalking them now, something invisible to the naked eye and far quieter than any murderer. This unseen Unsub was a flu virus, and it was tearing its way through the team, forcing those it infected to stay out of the field and even out of the office while it ravaged their bodies and they lay at home in general misery, and there was next to nothing they could do about it except wonder who it would attack next.

Garcia, the one who had, had it first, had only now, almost three weeks later, gotten over it and returned to work, Hotch, JJ, Blake, Morgan, and Rossi were all still at home. The only one who hadn't caught it yet, so far, was Reid.

This was partly because he had an almost pathological avoidance of sickness and the know-how to carry it out. In fact, aside from the Anthrax incident four and a half years ago, he hadn't been sick at all since he started his career. Not even a single common cold since being selected to the BAU.

But as he made his way to work, he was noticing, and choosing to ignore what he knew full well were the same minute early signs that had been shown by each of his co-workers over the course of the last month. He was congested and achy, his throat was dry and sore, his head pounded, and despite the sub-zero temperatures of DC in mid December, beads of sweat formed almost constantly on his forehead and neck, but he shivered anyway.

At the train station, he decided to forgo his usual morning coffee for a large hot-chocolate with a double shot of espresso, which he then took the time to infuse with liquid vanilla and honey, hoping that it would warm him up and sooth his throat so that it wouldn't be so obvious that he was coming down with something when he got to the office. After all, he hadn't taken a non-work-related sick day in almost eleven years and he certainly didn't want that record to break now. He knew it was probably inevitable, this thing had taken them down one by one, making them miserable and all but bed-ridden for a couple of weeks minimum. Now he was the last one standing; and though he wasn't prepared to admit it, even to himself, all signs pointed to him having it too.

He was well aware that it was going to get worse, a lot worse, before it got better. He already felt bad enough that if he was honest with himself, all he really wanted to do today was curl up under a blanket with a good book and a hot bowl of soup… by tomorrow it was likely he wouldn't really even want to get out of bed.

By the time he reached the BAU, he was coughing into a tissue that was just one of a stash he'd stuffed into his bag before leaving that morning. He shoved it into his front pocket and took another couple of gulps of his hot chocolate. He was pretty sure at this point that he had caught what the others already had. He was feeling worse by the minute. That said, he wasn't ready to admit defeat quite yet, so he trudged his way into the office anyway, where he found Penelope stocking his desk with a fresh pile of paperwork.

"Morning Reid…"

"M-morning Garcia…." He replied hoarsely, the coco had soothed the burning in his throat for the time being, but it hadn't managed to reverse the change in his voice.

"You feeling ok? You look and sound like crap, no offense but… you're pale as a ghost and I'm not a doctor but I'm pretty sure sweating and shivering at the same time isn't a good sign."

"I'mb f-fine…just didn't s-sleep very well last night… th-that's all." At least the first part of that was true. Not getting much in the way of a good night's sleep was nothing new, it was so typical that it might have nothing to do with being sick, but he had slept even worse than usual.

"You don't sound fine…you sound well…sick…are you catching the flu we've all had?"

"N-no…" he lied.

Garcia didn't believe a word of it, having been through it herself recently, she knew precisely what this strain looked and felt like. She put a firm hand on his desk and gave him an uncharacteristically hard look.

"Listen Reid, you and I are the only ones here. The bureau doesn't send profilers out solo anymore so all there is for you to do here today is paperwork. It's not like we'll have a new case until at least one or two of the others get better. There is no reason for you to strain yourself now…"

"But…"

"But nothing. You might not want to admit it Reid and I get it, you're stubborn like that. Sometimes that's a good thing, but not now. You obviously don't feel well…if I were you, I'd go home and rest… the reports do need to get done, but they can wait. If Hotch were here he'd order you to go so that _maybe _you'd be over this thing and back to your usual self by the time we did get a new case. If you get much worse I'll drive you home myself if I have to, and that's a promise."

Reid nodded, realizing that he wasn't able to hide how sick he already felt and that Garcia was making sense.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Face it, You're Sick

Reid was getting worse as the morning went on. In the last hour he'd only managed to finish six reports. He just couldn't manage anywhere even close to his usual speed. It wasn't even eleven AM but he was already exhausted both mentally and physically. He couldn't breathe through his nose anymore, he was so stuffed up that it was pointless to try, and blowing as much as he could out offered little relief. Plus his fever was getting worse, every so often he would get really light-headed for a few seconds and then see double until his head and vision would clear again a minute later.

Garcia could tell, it was obvious with the slow pace at which Reid was working. She kept her office door open so that she could hear him. She was silently hoping that eventually he'd give in and ask for the ride home she had promised.

"ACHOO! ACHOO! A-ATCHOO!" Reid had finally managed to go twenty minutes without coughing, except now he was sneezing. That was new, and probably yet another sign that this was already going from bad to worse. Garcia had been right, he should have stayed home. He balled up the tissue he'd been using for the last few minutes, threw it into the trashcan under his desk and doused his hands in hand sanitizer before getting a new one out of his bag.

It wasn't until almost one in the afternoon, when Garcia headed for the break room to get the lunch she had packed, that she found Reid passed out and snoring at his desk. She went over to him and poked him until he opened his eyes.

"Ey…wha was dat for…? He asked.

"Enough is enough Reid. I'm taking you home. You should be in bed, not here doing paperwork."

He nodded, half in agreement, half in defeat, grabbed his things, and followed her to the elevator.

Turns out Garcia was taking a harder line on the, him staying home thing than he'd thought.

She didn't just take him back to his building, she parked, walked with him all the way to his apartment, followed him inside and proceeded to stand between him and the door once they got there.

"Ya know Garcia…you don have to stay width me…I'mb home now…I'll be f-fine…"

"I'm not leaving until I'm convinced that you're ok to be left here by yourself, or there's someone else over here. That's how I roll, I don't abandon my family when they need me, even if they want me to and even if I'm protecting them from themselves."

"Yur not-" he paused, sneezing into a tissue. "–going to give dis up are you?"

"No," she replied sternly, "now go back to bed."

Not really having the energy left to fight her on any of it, he obeyed.

Garcia came in a few minutes later.

"Can I get you anything?" She asked him.

"Um…cud you please bwing me a glass of OJ and somethin ta read?" he asked.

"Orange Juice and a book, or in your case a stack of books, yeah, yeah sure thing." She replied, happy to have some way to help.

But when she came back a few minutes later with what he'd asked for, he had fallen asleep.

"Oh Reid…so stubborn, I told you, you needed some rest…" She said, setting the juice on his bedside table and putting the books on the floor in front of it.

He was sleeping surprisingly soundly, but he was also shivering feverishly again. She put a gentle hand on his forehead. His fever was obviously rising. She pulled the covers, now only over his legs (barely), up to his shoulders, got a washcloth from the bathroom wet with cool water, brought it back and laid it across is forehead.

Then, seeing that he was alright for the time being, she decided to check in on Morgan.

She went back out into the living room to call him so that she wouldn't risk waking Reid.

Morgan had fallen asleep on his sofa watching a football game, Chicago Bears vs. Washington Redskins. He shot up awake when he heard the loud buzzing noise of his cellphone buzzing on the coffee table next to him. He answered it.

"H-hey Babygirl, what's goin on?" he asked.

"How's my main man doing?" she asked.

"I'm getting there, most of it's not too bad anymore… but I still jus don have my energy back and I'm more stiff and sore now than three days ago…what about you? Sounds like you're finally pretty much over it…"

"The Black Queen has returned to her court, now she just wishes her guards and ladies in waiting would hurry up and get better already…"

"I'm width ya dere… but much as we'd all like to, just can't rush these things Babygirl… nothin ta do but let it run its course and wait it out without makin it any worse than it has ta be…"

"I know, I know…"

"Besides, you got Reid there…he's still ok…"

"Actually no…he came in this morning but he's got it in spades, I took him home…"

"This thing took down Reid? But the good dr. _never _gets sick like this…" Morgan reminded her, she was surprised too.

"Well this time it did…" she said.

"Geez…" Morgan replied. "Must be some flu. What the hell is goin on around here?"

"I wish I knew…now it really has gotten all of us." Garcia told him.

"He ok?"

"Right now he's asleep… Listen…if you need anything, all you have to do is call and ask…I can be over there in like ten minutes.

"Thanks Babygirl but I'm on my way outta this, I'll be alright, just give it another couple of days…"

"Alright…"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Snow Storm

Three hours later, Garcia returned to Spencer's room, to replace the wet cloth with a fresh one, but she found him awake, reading and sipping the orange juice he had asked for earlier. Even though he was awake she could tell that he was still getting worse, his eyes were glassy, the dark circles under them more pronounced…

_Why did this thing have to get him too? _She thought.

"Hey…how are feeling?"

"'Bout da same…" he said. "Y-ya know…dis migh not be da flu at all…m-maybe it's jus a bad cold…." He said, grabbing a tissue from the box on the bedside table. "I migh be f-fine by…by…" He paused, sneezing into the tissue and then attempting to blow out his clogged nose and sinuses. "T-tomorrow…"

"Reid… even if you're right, there's no way you'll be well enough to go anywhere tomorrow, but this is exactly what we've all dealt with, it had me down for almost three weeks…"

He didn't respond verbally, he just sighed heavily.

"Why don't you go back to sleep?"

"Because I can't…not width all da…" he didn't need to finish his sentence to explain, the interruption did it for him, he was seized by a coughing fit, it was deep, loud, and wet, like his body was trying to clear out his lungs. "Not with all da coughing and sneezing…"

He was cut off by a radio alert from the national weather service which was putting a snow advisory in effect for DC, Maryland, and Virginia.

"Well dat wuz bad timing…" he commented.

"You're telling me…looks though like we've got about four hours or so before the storm actually hits…"

"Once dis ting does hit…we'll be stuck 'ere for days…ya heard 'em, es da blizzard equivalent of hurricane Katrina…"

"Do you have enough supplies around here for that long? She asked.

He shook his head no.

"Then there's only one thing to do…"

"Wuz dat?" he asked.

"Go and get some of course…"

"But…" he started to protest.

"But nothing. I might check on the others too while I'm at it but I will be back by the time the storm hits."

"Shud I come width you?" he asked.

"Absolutely not. You're sick as a dog and getting worse. The last thing you need right now is to be out in whether like this. You are staying here where it's warm and dry and safe."

"Den take my g-gun…"

"What?" she asked, surprised.

"P-Psychology of group panic…a-after dat weather report, deres gonna be a mad dash on all da stores an pharmacies…like…black Friday but worse…much worse…"

"Ok, but taking your gun…isn't that just a little bit overboard?"

He shook his head.

She sighed, while she was figuring out how she was going to go about carrying a weapon, he wrote down a name, an address, and a question and answer on a piece of paper for her and handed it to her.

"Who's this?"

"A friend of mine…he's probly ur best bet for food and medicine and stuff…he runs a shop at dat address, not many people know bout it so you might avoid da swarms of people…jus tell him I sent ya"

"Ok, I'll check it out…"

"Use da password…"

"What's the password?"

"De answer to da question…"

"Why would I need a password…?"

"Cuz he's secretive an a little paranoid, if dis storm makes tings as bad as I tink it will he'll be more so dan usual…"

"Ok then…" she was about to ask where he found this guy, but she saw that he had fallen into an uneasy sleep and decided she had better leave him be.

Outside it was already beginning to snow a little harder and faster, the sky was turning dark and the winds were picking up.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Black Monday

Garcia ran to the nearest supermarket, but Reid was right, every shelf had been picked apart and everywhere she looked people were racing and fighting over what little was left. Everywhere she looked, fallen canned goods that had opened on impact and crumbs from any number of items littered the speckled tile floor.

All of a sudden she had a very Reidlike thought and decided to try the isle that contained the non-perishables. It was certainly slim-pickings but, for some strange reason, what had brought her there didn't seem to have occurred to the craziest among the other customers, probably because it's hard to be rational when you're fighting over frozen TV-dinners.

However she still only managed to find one solitary case of chicken-flavored ramen. As she went to put the case in her cart, a short woman with curly black hair and a desperate look in her green eyes grabbed the other end of the case and tried to yank it out of Garcia's hands. Garcia yanked back on it.

"Hey lady! I had it first, go get your own! My friend needs this and I don't have all day!" she yelled.

They both dropped the case and stared each other down. Tension hung heavy in the air about them.

"It's the last one…please, my son is sick and this is all I can get him to eat. I'm begging you!"

After a few minutes of this, Garcia suddenly snapped out of it.

_What am I doing? She thought. I'm about to have a cat fight in the middle of a grocery store, over a package of ramen…Reid was right, the impending storm is making everyone crazy…apparently including me…this is nuts. But what am I going to do? We both need this just as much and this lady's got tunnel vision so bad she couldn't find another case if it bit her on the nose… I know, I'll do what I do best, be the voice of reason._

Garcia looked around and finally saw another case poking out from the back of the bottom shelf.

"Take that one…" She said and she pointed to it and put the original case into the cart.

She also bought the biggest case of bottled water she could find and left the store. She hid the items with her coat until she got them into the trunk of her orange convertible, hoping that it would keep desperate people from trying to steal them.

Then she made her way to the pharmacy in search of something that might make Reid a little less miserable. She was nearly T-boned and/or rear ended four different times on the way there, people were driving like maniacs. When she did finally get there, she was shocked by how crowded that was. After looking for twenty minutes and not finding anything helpful on the shelves, she got in the express lane to the counter and waited for her turn in the short line.

"What do you mean you're out of over the counter flu medicine?!" Garcia railed at the pharmacist. Then she did something she hadn't expected to do. She yanked on the man's tie and pulled him halfway across the counter.

"I-in case you haven't noticed…we're k-ind of in the middle of an epidemic…" The small, nerdy-looking man explained, "I had a large shipment come in last week and every week for the last month, but there's nothing left!" she stared at him hard. "Please don't hurt me…" he begged.

She softened and let him go.

"Sorry…"

"That's ok, believe it or not people have done worse…but I seriously don't have anything for you."

She nodded and left.

Then she decided to track down the address that Reid had given her, it led her to a small, run-down looking shop around a darkened street corner. The street around it was quiet and deserted-looking and the parking lot looked pretty rundown, like it hadn't been used or maintained in a while. The blacktop was cracked and the painted yellow lines were so faded with age that it was hard to see where the stalls were. The shop itself didn't look like much from the outside, but from the description Reid had given of its owner, that was probably on purpose, even the windows were frosted over.

Maybe all this appearance of depravity was a façade to keep away people he didn't want to know about his shop, a man like the one Reid had described would thrive in shadows, only being known to those he wanted to know him. That said, Garcia was still a little unnerved by it all, this place carried a strange vibe of mystery that she didn't like, it felt dangerous and scary.

She took a step toward the building, and then another, until she finally reached the door. She opened it and went inside, it shut tight behind her the minute she was passed the threshold. In front of her was another door, this one had a rectangular peephole covered by a piece of wood from the inside.

A sign on the wall said "ring bell for entry" so she looked up and saw a large, cast-iron bell attached to the ceiling and a long rope in the corner, she pulled it and the bell rung, it was deafening in the confined space of the narrow hallway.

Suddenly the cover was removed from the peephole to reveal a pair of large dark brown eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Hardison

Garcia stood in the creepy shop owned by Reid's friend, with a pair of eyes staring at her from behind the inside door.

"Hello…? Are you…um…" Garcia glanced down at the paper Reid had given her. "Alec Hardison?" she asked.

"If to pass through my door is what you seek, you must answer me these questions three."

Garcia was taken aback, Reid hadn't warned her about this part.

"O-ok…"

"What is your name?" the man on the other side of the door asked.

"Penelope Garcia." She answered.

"What is your quest?" he replied.

"To help my friends…"

"Who sent you here?"

"Spencer Reid."

"If that's true than you know the answer to the fourth and final question. Who knocks at the garden gate?"

"One who has eaten the fruit and tasted its mysteries…" she read off of Reid's note.

At that she heard him turn the lock, and the door opened to reveal Alec Hardison, a skinny man with the skin of an African American who had Native American features. He gave her a wide, friendly smile, and her apprehension dissipated.

"Please come in…" he said, beckoning her further inside.

Once she stepped passed the second threshold he closed and locked the door behind her.

"Sorry bout all of that…"

"Reid didn't warn me about the first three questions…" she told him.

"I only do that to people I haven't seen before… I knew Spencer before I opened this place, so he probably didn't know."

"That makes more sense now…"

"We've been friends since we were kids at Cal Tech together… I did a double major in bio-chemistry and botany. Nana raised me and my two brothers, and she never, ever, let a processed food, drink, or drug cross our lips. After my great-grandfather escaped from a plantation in Georgia, when most people in his shoes would've run north, he went west and married into the Apache, Nana was his daughter and Ol'Gran as we called our great-grandmother was the village medicine woman, she taught all of house how to use what the earth had given us to feed ourselves and heal ourselves and others. Starting with my generation, more and more of us abandoned the reservation for the city and it became next to impossible to get good natural food and effective herbal medicine… So I built this place so that my brothers and sisters and anybody else who wanted or needed it could have access to it. Spencer and I kept in contact after graduation and then one day about six and a half years ago, he called me up, asked if I could help him… I don't know why, and for some reason something tells me you might know more about this than I do, but he was looking for a dependable source of pain killers that weren't addictive…" He explained, and he was right, Garcia knew exactly why Reid would've wanted that.

"I see…" was all she said.

"If you don't mind me asking, why did he send you here instead of just coming himself?"

"He's sick…"

"Seriously? That, doesn't happen very often…"

"No it does not, so how does this work?"

"It's real simple, you tell me what all is wrong with him and what he's got… I give ya something that's gonna help him, you give it to him…"

So Garcia told him what happened.

"Ok, I can help with that, normally I brew everything fresh when its ordered but this has been so common lately that I've been brewing it almost all the time… basically it's gonna be a liquid, it should be hot, get him to drink about a cup of it, about every twelve hours or so should do it, almost like a broth, made from the same herbs that a lot of medicines for this kind of thing are derived from, just a lot mess screwed around with and no chemicals added…"

"I didn't know that…"

"Most people don't, now its just a matter of finding the right combo of stuff, there's various recipes you could use but that doesn't mean you just pick one at random, there's a science and I dare say an art to it…Give me a few minutes and if I don't have the right one ready I'll start some."

"Thank you…" she told him.

Garcia could hear Hardison thinking aloud, mumbling as his thoughts went on like a speeding train and it reminded her of Reid.

"Let's see… Chili? No, that'll help but it'll also make him more miserable, and marigold would just be cancelled out by the coltsfoot and Eucalyptus, so I need to use bitter-root instead… yeah, yeah that'll work… that'll do nicely…" he muttered to himself, then he came back with a one-gallon glass mason jar containing his concoction and set it on the front counter.

"This is it? You had some ready?" Garcia asked, he nodded.

"I made this last night, so it's actually still pretty fresh, this is enough for, about a week… there are a couple of things here that should help him fight this thing off faster than he would otherwise but mostly it'll make him a lot less miserable. People don't think about this but actually the feeling miserable part wastes valuable energy that the body would be a lot better off retaining, cutting out some of that waste is the main way this works, but one of the ingredients is also a mild sedative so don't expect him to be any less exhausted, especially after taking it. And you want it warm when you give it to him, in a pot, not the microwave, the microwave will destroy the herbs and render it useless." He said, giving her instructions.

Garcia was writing it all down.

"How much?" she asked.

"Nada… I live on what I grow back in the greenhouse, I sell the food, not the herbs, my ancestors would have my head if I charged for this stuff and besides that it just feels well…wrong…" he said, genuinely disgusted by the idea.

"You're a good guy Hardison…"

"Thanks, and it you need any help in the future, remember the password." He replied with a wink. "Tell him I said hi…"

"I will…"

Outside the frosted glass windows, Hardison eyed the shadows of a mob of people.

"That can't be good, I can count my regular customers on my fingers, hurry, I'll let you out the back, then run to your car and get going." He ordered nervously.

Garcia obeyed.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Fever Dreams

Garcia followed as Hardison showed her back through his huge, narrow greenhouse where he grew organic food and herbs, she saw posters on the walls and glued to the pots and planting beds reminding him of what each herb was used for and recommended combinations. When they got to the back door, Hardison opened a lock box sitting on a shelf and took out a beautiful wooden, Native American war club with a heavy-looking stone head.

"You're coming?" she asked.

"No, but I'm gonna hold those guys off if I have to, just stay close and let me deal with them." He ordered.

She could see it in him then, the fire and protective instinct of his warrior ancestors.

"What's that for?" she said, turning her gaze directly at the club.

"It's real simple…" he said, sounding entertained and even just a little bit excited. "Guns are for whinnies… and this right here…is Granddaddy's war club, I haven't used it for real, don't plan to now, but in my experience, this'll scare them off faster than a shotgun ever could…"

They stepped out, he locked the door behind them and stared down the desperate mob with club in hand. Then he told Garcia to run.

Meanwhile, back in Reid's apartment, the windows were frosted over and the wind howled outside. Reid was still in bed, shivering feverishly under the blankets, unsure of whether it was really cold in his room or if he was burning up again, although considering the way the heat tended to fail on and off in whether like this, that the answer could be both was a distinct possibility.

He was starting to worry because the storm had arrived in full force over two hours early and Garcia wasn't back yet. Had she found her way to Hardison's? Was she in trouble? Reid reached over and picked up his cellphone off the bedside table and called her, but after ringing several times, it when to her voicemail. He sighed, knowing that he couldn't go after her, but the longer he waited, the more he thought he should try. He tried to get up but his muscles screamed in protest, for the first time in years, he was literally too sick to get out of bed.

He laid back against the pillows, exhausted and furious with himself. Though he didn't want to, he drifted back to sleep.

_He was home in Las Vegas, standing in front of the house he had shared with his mother until he was eighteen, when he had, had her admitted to Bennington and then moved out himself. It wasn't long before it became clear that this was that very day. He could hear his mother from inside, screaming, begging him not to do this. He saw his own tortured expression, as both he and his younger self watched as she was dragged away and carted off to Bennington. He had hated to have to do that, but she couldn't be trusted on her own, and he just couldn't do it anymore. _

_Maybe, if his dad had still been around at that time, she could've stayed in the house without him and he wouldn't have had to do that. If he hadn't left them when Spencer was nine, things could have been different. For the first time, he realized that this, much more than his own abandonment issues were why he hated his father. _

_Suddenly he heard growling off to his right, he turned to see what it was and saw that he was being hunted by three massive black wolves. He ran away as fast as he could, but no-matter how fast he went or how far he got, there they were, gaining on him. He could hear them howling at the full moon in the distance. He knew it was probably suicide but he took a chance and ran into the woods where he thought that maybe, just maybe he could lose them, maybe they would get distracted by the scents of the other animals and go after easier prey. He ran further and further in, and as he did the terrain got rougher and rougher, yet the wolves seemed to navigate it with ease. Before he knew it one of them pounced on him. Then, just as it was about to go for his throat, a winged version of Garcia in a black medieval ball gown and a think fur cloak appeared out of the sky and whacked the wolf hard on the nose with a wooden spoon. _

_"Just what do you think you are doing?" She asked angrily. "He is not to eat, he is a friend, and there's still very important work to be done. So shoo, go on, get out of here you silly creature." She yelled, the wolf ran away and she helped Reid to his feet. "My apologies, I think he thought you were his dinner…" _

_"If you don't mind me asking…who exactly are you?" he asked. _

_"Why…I am Queen Penelope, or The Black Queen, as I am sometimes called." She replied. _

_"What exactly am I doing here?" _

_"You don't know?" she asked. "Why, you are here to rescue the princess of course! She is not my daughter but she is my heir, and you, Prince Spencer of the Kingdom of Wong Shi Tong are her only hope…for since her thirtieth birthday she has been trapped in a sleep like death…" _

_"And let me guess…only true love's first kiss will break the spell…?" he theorized. _

_"He CAN be taught!" she announced happily. "It is the result of a curse put upon her when she was a baby by that witch Dianne! Oh how I hate her…" _

_The Black Queen led him to her castle, then up to the eastern tower. Once inside, he found a beautiful princess with long reddish brown hair. When he got closer, he realized that the princess, was Maeve… Not one muscle moved, the only hint that she was still alive, was that he could tell she was still breathing. _

_Gently, he moved in and kissed her on the lips. Her green eyes fluttered open and she reached up, put her arms around him and kissed him back. _

_Suddenly the roof blue off the tower and Maeve was lifted into the air and into the arms of a witch with long black hair, riding a broomstick. Before she was out of his reach, Spencer grabbed her ankle and tried to anchor her to the ground. This was futile and he was lifted into the air as well. _

_"Get off!" the witch screamed. _

_"Never!" he cried._

_Then, by waving her own magic wand in a circular motion, The Black Queen sucked them back down to the ground in a gentle, upside down tornado, they fell back to the earth. The next thing he knew, the queen was pulling the handle end of a wooden spoon out of his mouth. _

_"Spencer…do you remember who I am?" She asked. _

_"Um…the wicked witch of the west?" _

_"Wrong answer!" she yelled, and hit him in the head with the cupped end of the spoon._

Spencer awoke to find Garcia at his bedside with a fresh icepack in hand.

"Wha appened?" he asked.

"I came back with food and medicine and found you lying here with the covers kicked all the way off the bed, you were curled up in a ball shivering so I put them back and got the quilt off the back of your couch and put that over you too. I found a thermometer and found out that your fever was actually higher than it was when I left so I got you an icepack… then you woke up…"

"H-how long you been back?" he asked.

"About twenty minutes…" she replied.

He managed to nod before being seized by a coughing fit.

"So what now? Do you wanna try and eat something or take of the medicine and go back to sleep?" she asked him when it had finally stopped.

"Eat somting first… maybe sum soup an some hot coco… width honey…dat sounds nice…"

"You got it…I will start boiling the water and heating the milk now…" she said, giving him the icepack before going to the kitchen.


End file.
